


Peter Is Going to Tell Erik, Really...

by ChasingAfterMidnight



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Charles Being Concerned, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Peter-centric, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingAfterMidnight/pseuds/ChasingAfterMidnight
Summary: Peter thinks the secret of his parentage is safe, until Charles announces that Erik is going to be living at the mansion from now on. How long can Peter keep Erik from knowing? Just until the time is right... He'll definitely tell him. Totally.





	1. Erik's Arrival

Ever since Peter discovered that the former-terrorist-but-actually-saved-the-world guy called Magneto was his dad, that’d been a bit of a touchy subject for him. Of course, nobody except Mystique knew about it, and of course Ororo because Mystique couldn’t be trusted to keep secrets hidden, but Peter still felt like the kids at the school (and the Professor, oh God, he can’t ever know, he’d tell Erik in a heartbeat) would find out and decide he was too much trouble than he was worth, that he’d have to leave the school, or that he couldn’t be trusted not to turn out like his president-killing dad so he had to be locked away.

That didn’t really matter, as it turned out, because Charles had long since decided that Peter’s head moved too quickly for him to get a look in without getting a headache, so he wasn’t in danger of being mentally invaded any time soon. As well as that, Peter figured Erik was going to pull off his signature move and not show up again for another ten years, so his secret was safe for now.

Which is why it was such a problem when Charles came rolling (and how weird is that? Last time Peter saw him, he was like a drugged-up hippy Jesus, and now he’s like… formal and shit) into the kitchen when a handful of students were making themselves breakfast, and announced, “Erik Lensherr will be staying with us for the foreseeable future; I am aware of his past, more than most, and have decided that any untoward behaviour towards him will not be tolerated. And believe me, I’ll know if there is.” And then he tapped his first two fingers against his temple and started wheeling out of the kitchen.

When Peter heard that, his mind was racing- well, more than usual. How was he supposed to hide the fact that he and Erik were related when they were living in the same building? Would it be suspicious if he avoided him? Would it be more suspicious if he didn’t avoid him? What if Peter accidentally tells him, what would he do, how would he react? He’d be disappointed, who’d want him for a son anyway, he’s nothing more than-

“Peter,” a voice interrupted his frantic thoughts. Charles had stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him, a frown on his face. “I don’t enter minds without permission, but you’re projecting some things rather loudly.”

Which, of course, made Peter panic even more. What if Charles found out? He’d obviously tell Erik, and he can’t do that, not yet, he’ll do it, he just needs the right time, and oh God what if he blurts it out in front of all these students, who surely wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, and-

“Peter!” Charles repeated, his concern growing. “A word, please?”

His heart sank. He knew, of course he knew. He followed Charles to the study, every step making his desire to dash away even more prominent. As Charles found himself a place behind his desk, he motioned for Peter to sit.

“Ah, no I’m fine, man, I mean sir, I mean-” Peter stuttered. “I can just stand, I’m too quick to sit too much, I like being able to walk around and pace and all that jazz, you know?”

Charles just looked at him with his unreadable expression which was, unsurprisingly, unreadable. “There’s no need to be so agitated, Peter,” he said. “I just wanted to reassure you that there’s nothing to worry about with Erik staying with us.”

“What? Why would I be worried about him? I’m not worried about him,” Peter said, trying to think of a way to derail this conversation before Charles found out about the whole ‘I’m related to a terrorist’ thing.

“I could feel waves of nervousness and panic coming from you quite strongly in the kitchen, Peter, and I know you and Erik haven’t had the greatest of relationships in the past, but if there’s anything I can do to ease your worry, I will try my best to do so.” Charles looked so earnest that a part of Peter (a very, very small part) just wanted to admit the truth so he didn’t seem like he had a grudge against Charles’ former best friend or possible lover, depending on who you asked.

“Uh, yeah, no, I don’t have a problem with him at all, I’m just… worried about the younger kids? You know, the ones who just know him as the terrorist on TV and all, uh, they might be scared of him, but not me- I’m 100% not scared of anyone, and especially not someone like Er-Magneto, because hey, what’s there to be scared of anyway? It’s not like he almost joined Apocalypse or anything, and he totally didn’t nearly destroy or take over the world, and-”

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Peter spun around, and came face to face with the very man he’d been talking about. At length. Erik stood in the doorway, and before he could even utter a syllable, Peter took off, becoming little more than a silver blur as he raced outside and ended up perched in a tree overlooking the lake. Almost immediately, he wanted to kick himself. What kind of message would that send to his dad, huh? That he was another weak kid, afraid of the big scary Magneto they’d seen on television, too weak to face him, that’s what.

“Fucking weak, Maximoff,” he said to himself, preparing himself to make the trek back inside, hopefully avoiding both Charles and Erik for the rest of time.


	2. Training Mishap

By the time Peter eventually headed back inside, the sun had set and the students had gone to bed. And, if he were to have his way, he’d follow them and do the same. Sitting in a tree and wandering the grounds aimlessly for hours does that to a person. Then again, life never did seem to like his plans and took every opportunity to derail them.

A prime example of this being the person who just happens to be standing in the kitchen, back to the counter, when Peter was aiming to grab a quick snack and then go to his room. Erik Lensherr, Magneto, his dad, whatever Peter’s brain decided to call him, was standing there, not even doing anything. It was like he was waiting for something. Or someone.

Before Peter could repeat that morning and dash out before Erik could get a word in, Erik spoke.

“Don’t,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you, you don’t need to run.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Then why did you run from me in Charles’ study?” He asked.

Peter stopped. Part of him wanted to just tell the truth, to just say ‘hey man, you’re my dad, sorry I never told you, I’m not trying to replace your dead wife and child but here I am!’ Yeah, Peter didn’t think so. Besides, if Erik was really going to want to be around him, he wanted it to be because he wanted to, not because he thought he had to since they were related.

He still had mixed feelings about him, to be honest. Yeah, he was curious, but he was also more than a bit wary. Erik was almost the complete opposite of him. Where Erik had determination and anger, Peter had a laid back attitude and a mind too fast to hold grudges for very long.

“I...” Peter trailed off. How was he supposed to explain any of this? “I don’t know, man, what do you want me to say?”

“You don’t need to be wary around me.” Erik said, taking a step towards him. “I know a lot happened between the Pentagon and today, but I will not hurt a single student that resides here, or any other mutant if I can help it.”

“Whatever, dude,” he said, dashing out of the kitchen and into his room. If he couldn’t handle one (extremely stilted and awkward) conversation with his dad, how was he ever meant to tell him the truth?

\---

The next day, a few of the X-Men were in the Danger Room – nicknames thanks to Mystique, as always – training. Peter was bored and restless, running laps of the area and weaving in and out of the mutants practicing their abilities.

He was basically there only physically; mentally, he was, unsurprisingly, thinking about Erik. He’d have to find a way to tell him, since he’d no doubt be leaving eventually. He might not know him very well, but Peter could tell he wasn’t meant for semi-suburban life, even if it was with Charles.

He was still thinking about that when he noticed a red beam of light out of the corner of his eye. He turned around to look, but he misjudged its speed and ended up receiving the full force of the blast on his upper leg. Pain was the only thing he could feel, none of his other senses were working, and he felt himself crash to the floor.

He heard a screaming sound come from somewhere, that felt like it was everywhere at once, and it was only when he tried to ask what happened did he realise it was coming from him.

He could hear muffled voices all around him, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to hear individual words. He grit his teeth and lifted his head up to look at his leg, but there were too many people in the way, and strong hands on his chest, keeping him down.

Peter felt trapped, and with so many people crowded around his leg, disabling its movement, he was flung back into the fight against Apocalypse, his leg trapped and him rendered useless. His breathing was becoming more and more erratic, and his thoughts less coherent. All he knew was that he needed to get away.

He thrashed, making the hands on his chest and people near his leg momentarily release him, and a moment was all he needed. He rolled to the side and blindly dashed away, but before he even took two steps, his leg gave way and he was brought back to the floor. His leg felt like it was on fire, but he tried again – this time, he managed to hobble halfway to the door, where his body failed him again.

He distantly heard the door open and the tell-tale sound of Charles’ wheelchair being rolled into the room. He squinted in the direction of the sound, but at that moment his hand grazed his leg and he was back to screaming and writhing in pain. He felt warm, rough hands stabilise his body, and Charles’ voice spoke directly into his mind.

“Peter, you’ve been hurt,” it said. “I’m just going to put you to sleep for a moment so we can-”

But that was all Peter heard. He’d had a dog, he knew what being put to sleep meant, and he wasn’t going to die, he’d done too much important shit to die now, he still had to tell Erik, for God’s sake! He still had to… to… And then Peter’s world faded to black.

\---

He regained consciousness in phases and flashes. First, he was aware of muffled voices yelling nearby, and although he tried to open his eyes to see who it was, sleep dragged him back under.

The next time he woke, he was awake for a few minutes. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a room by himself, surrounded by medical equipment. Come to think of it, this was probably the room he was in when he had that infuriating cast, courtesy of Apocalypse. Speaking of, he glanced down at himself, and noticed he was lying atop blankets, with his right leg covered in bandages.

At that moment, Hank walked in, immediately perking up once he saw Peter was awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good, man,” Peter replied, still staring at his leg.

There was something wrong, something just beyond his comprehension, but something wasn’t right about his leg. What had happened? He’d been training – well, he’d been running around while everyone else was training – and then everything was a mix of pain and uncertainty until now. It was then that he realised what was wrong – he couldn’t feel his leg. He remembered it being incredibly painful yesterday, or whenever that day was, so why didn’t it hurt now?

“Hank,” he said. “Why can’t I feel my leg?”

He started to panic. Without his legs, he couldn’t use his power, and without his power, he was useless! What if they had to amputate it? What if he had to go around in a wheelchair like Charles? Oh God, Erik would never accept him as a son any more, now that he was barely a mutant – what was he supposed to do?

His chest felt tight and gasping, wheezing breaths were coming from him in short bursts. What was happening to him? He was vaguely aware of a voice close to him, and then louder, but further away, calling out for Charles. Huh, maybe he really did need a wheelchair and Charles was coming down to break the news and tell him about what it’s like to have to sit all day and not speed up and not be able to use your legs and-

And then Peter’s eyes closed and his mind relaxed.

\---

The third time he woke, the first thing he was aware of was the pain. A deep throbbing pain that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, coming from his leg. He groaned.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said.

Peter looked up, only to see Mystique sitting on a chair beside his bed.

“Charles says he’s sorry, by the way,” she said.

“For what?” He said, absentmindedly fiddling with his bedsheets.

Mystique sat forwards in her chair. “You woke up yesterday and freaked out because you couldn’t feel your leg, and Hank said you were rambling about all kinds of things. Charles was trying to dampen the pain you would feel, but I guess he took it too far and took away all of the feeling in your leg.”

Peter frowned. He wasn’t totally sure what had happened in the first place, just that one minute he was running, and the next, he was a montage of pain away from waking up in this bed.

“What happened?” He asked, trying to ignore the pain. “Not that I don’t love waking up in strange places with unexplained injuries, but this is a bit much.”

“Scott happened, that’s what,” she said. “You were running, and he wasn’t aiming – or he was aiming, and you weren’t paying attention, and you got hit.”

“Oh,” he said. “So, how long til I’m back up and running? Because I don’t really want to have to stay on this bed any longer than I have to, and I heal faster than most people anyway, so I could totally just dash up to my room whenever, yeah? Like I feel fine, apart from a tiny, small, itsy bitsy bit of pain but that’ll be fine, I’ve had worse.”

Mystique flashed him a grin. Oh no. “You, Maximoff, are stuck in that bed, and this room, for a whole four weeks.”

Peter’s heart stopped. “Hank was originally pushing for six, you know,” she continued, as if she hadn’t completely ruined his life. “But Charles convinced him that you could handle it in four, for the sake of your sanity.”

“But it’s not like anyone’s going to stop me if I just get up and run out, though.” He said.

Mystique’s grin just got wider. Definitely oh no. “Oh, you’re not going anywhere. We set up a roster; you’re not being left alone for a second”

He let out a groan and laid his head back on his pillow. He thought he’d be done with periods of immobility since Apocalypse fucked up his leg, but apparently the gods decided to screw with him even more. Just great. This was going to be the longest four weeks of his life.


	3. Truth Emerging

Over the next few days, Peter realised something very quickly – when Mystique said you weren’t leaving a room, you weren’t leaving a room. Amongst frequent visits from Hank fixing up his leg or adjusting some medical equipment in his room, he’d had a range of visitors, all with the primary goal to keep an eye on him so he didn’t leave.

First was Mystique, of course, who mainly came in to make sure he hadn’t tried to escape in the last couple of hours since she’d checked on him. She’d keep him up to date with what was happening outside his limited world recently, and brought him snacks when she was feeling especially generous.

Then there was Scott, who came in looking dishevelled and uttering apologies so fast and often that Peter thought that super speed could be a secondary ability of his. Once he repeatedly told him that, “it’s fine dude, honestly, I should’ve been looking where I was going – no harm done – well, apart from, you know, but yeah apart from that it’s not a problem”, he was pretty cool too, even though his visits tapered off as Peter guessed he still felt guilty.

Most surprisingly, Charles – and Erik, on occasion – came down to talk to him. In Charles’ case, it was to apologise for dampening the pain in his leg to such an extreme, and to explain to him what happened after he was hit. As soon as he was hit, Charles felt an overwhelming amount of panic and distress, so he and Erik immediately made their way to them. The basic gist of it was that he wouldn’t stay down, and when he tried to run to the door and collapsed, Erik helped to carry him while Charles let him sleep peacefully. Meanwhile, Charles was left with a headache for his troubles.

For Erik, he mainly came to… well, if Peter had to guess, he’d say he was just following Charles no matter where he went, since he never came alone, but he liked to pretend Erik actually cared enough about him to see him.

Charles also used his time in Mystique’s ‘Peter watching’ roster to talk to him about Erik when he wasn’t accompanying him, still under the impression that Peter was scared of him.

“I know we haven’t been the closest of people, Peter,” he started. “But I would really like to know why you have such strong emotions regarding Erik.”

Peter sighed and propped himself further up on the bed, ignoring the twinge of pain from repositioning his leg. He figured Charles wasn’t going to let this go, and he’d eventually get worn down with puppy eyes and gentle questioning, so he decided to tell him.

“He, uh, knew my mom,” he admitted, not looking in Charles’ eyes for fear of what he might see.

Charles just stared at him. “And when you say knew, you mean…?”

“I mean that after he left, nine months later there I was.” He said, talking quickly. “But, please, don’t tell Erik – I’ll do it myself when the time is right, I can’t make him think I’m trying to replace his old family or anything like that.”

“I have to admit, I did have a suspicion, especially since I put you to sleep and was privy to your surface thoughts for moments, but nothing concrete stood out,” He said. “Erik may be a confusing person to deal with, but he believes he has no family left, and I imagine he would be overjoyed at having such ties to anyone, including you. It’s my opinion that you should find the time to tell him, sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter said, while his head firmly disagreed. Erik wouldn’t want him as a son, especially now that he’s basically useless. Trying to side-track the conversation, he asked, “So who’s next on the roster, do you know?”

A small smile played on Charles’ lips. “As it so happens, Erik will be your next companion.”

Peter let out a groan.

\---

After Charles had left, he barely had a second to himself before Erik “dadneto” Lensherr came through the door. He uttered a greeting and sat himself down in the chair beside the bed. Peter waited, but it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else.

“Uh, hey man,” Peter started. “Thanks for, you know, carrying me down here after I got hit.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said. “I should be the one thanking you for what happened at the Pentagon so long ago.”

“Guess we’re even then, hey?”

“I suppose we are.” Erik said, looking amused at Peter’s antics. “I’m not sure if anyone has asked yet, but do you have any family we should contact and inform that you’ve been hurt?”

“What? No, no, you don’t need to worry my mom, it’s fine, my family don’t need to be involved,” he stuttered. He couldn’t let his mom come out to see him, in case she and Erik recognised each other. She always warned Peter against Magneto, telling him how dangerous he could be. There was no way that was happening.

Erik raised an eyebrow at Peter, and asked, “Is there any reason you’re so against your mother visiting you? I would have thought you’d like the company.”

When Peter said nothing, he continued. “Is there anyone else that might want to see you? A father or siblings?”

“Ha, yeah, no,” he said. “I never knew my dad growing up, only recently knew who he was, he wouldn’t want to be around me anyway, and my sister is off at college, so I don’t need her to derail her life to come see me whenever I’m hurt, which is unsurprisingly a lot.”

Erik just looked at him. He seemed so normal, so unlike the Magneto persona he put on for the cameras. He looked… tired, if anything.

“If I were you, I would call them,” he said. “I didn’t have the luxury of having a family for most of my years, and when I made my own family… Well, that didn’t last for long either. Regardless, I’m sure a visit from them would be appropriate at this time.”

Peter swallowed. Would Erik understand if he told him now? Would he see it as an opportunity for new family or an attempt to replace the old? Considering Peter’s luck, most likely the second option. Still, he had to be sure…

“Hey, uh, Erik,” he started. “Can I ask you something? Not that, you know, you have to answer or anything but if you wanted, you could, no pressure or anything, man.”

“You can ask me anything, except I cannot guarantee an answer.” He said, which, hey, that was good enough for Peter.

He went for it. “What if, hypothetically, they weren’t your only family? What if you had others out there somewhere? Would you want to find them?”

Erik’s gaze hardened. “My family is dead, and no hypothetical situation will change that. I don’t pretend to understand what you want out of this line of questioning, but making a mockery of their memories is something I won’t tolerate.”

With that, Erik stood up abruptly and headed to the door. “We’re done here. I’ll inform Ororo that her shift has been rescheduled.”

Peter scrambled in his bed, shuffling up until his back was against the wall behind him. “Wait!” He said, panicking. He couldn’t let Erik leave, not when he thinks he was making fun of his family. But what could he do?

“You’re my dad!” he blurted out, which succeeded in making Erik stop in the doorway, his back to Peter. “I never told you because I thought you’d hate me or think I wanted to replace your family – which, hey, I don’t want to do – and I wasn’t making fun of them or anything, I was just trying to figure out if you even wanted anyone else in your life and I know I’m not the greatest son you could get, and you’ll probably not want to acknowledge how much of a screw up your son is and-”

Peter was rambling. Oh God. Peter’s mouth was running away from him and in the meantime, Erik was just standing in the doorway, saying nothing, and with a totally neutral expression. What the hell? Did he not actually care? Did he think Peter was lying? God, he needed Charles here right now to erase this moment in both of their minds, make them both forget this ever happened. Well, maybe Peter should remember it so he knows never to try it again.

“You know what? I’m kind of tired, I feel so close to just passing out from exhaustion, I might just sleep now, good talk, uh, forget this ever happened please,” Peter said, turning away from Erik and scrunching his eyes shut.

“Peter.” Erik said his name softly and almost hesitantly. “Are you certain this is the truth? If this is an elaborate prank-”

Peter cut him off with two words. The name of his mother.

“I… I never knew she was pregnant,” Erik said, coming back into the room and closing the door behind him. “If I knew, I swear, Peter, I would have stayed.”

“…So, you’re not mad or anything?” Peter asked, rolling back onto his back.

Erik shook his head. “I believed I was alone – why would I be mad when I find out I have connections to other people in the world?”

Erik sat down and looked Peter in the eyes. “We need to talk.”

And that’s what they did. Erik and Peter were there for what felt like hours – at least, it felt that way to Peter, but everything felt slow now that he couldn’t use his power for fear of agitating his leg and drawing out his injury – about anything and everything. Sure, the conversation was originally purely about Peter’s parentage, but it soon took off on tangents and alternate paths until it was just Peter and Erik talking, enjoying each other’s company.

At one point, Ororo came to do her Peter-sitting duty, but upon seeing them in deep conversation, she flashed Peter a not-so-subtle thumbs up and left the room again. “She knows about this?” Erik asked.

“Uh, yeah, a few people do,” Peter said. “Mystique knows, and she told Ororo, and I don’t know who they might’ve told, and then Charles knows-”

“And he didn’t tell me?” He said.

Peter looked down sheepishly at his blankets. “I might have asked him not to. I wanted to be the one to tell you myself, even though I couldn’t ever make myself do it. I guess… I guess I thought you wouldn’t want me as a son.”

“Any man, including myself, would be glad to call you their son, Peter,” Erik reassured him. “Besides, who’s to say you won’t regret your decision? I do have decades of parenting to catch up on – Who knows, I might become an overprotective father and never let you have your freedom.”

Peter was both glad his dad was joking around with him, and thoroughly creeped out by the concept of Erik “I assassinated the President of the United States” Lensherr joking around with anyone. Overall, though, Peter felt comfortable around him, so it really didn’t matter what he did.

Besides, he was totally using the “but you’ve been out of my life for so long, you should do this one thing for me” line to emotionally blackmail Erik into helping him with some of his more intricate pranks. Having a metal manipulator on his side would definitely come in handy. Plus, he was pretty confident of his ability to manipulate his way out of trouble with the “it was father-son bonding” card.

And Peter knew he still had weeks of restricted movement and bed rest, but it didn’t bother him as much as it did before. Because now he had a dad, a dad who actually liked him, and understood him, and Peter couldn’t be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I wrote this in like two days of study procrastination and I'm bad at endings and dialogue, so there we go. Hope you enjoyed it. I got sick of having read all of the Peter-centric fics so I was like "oh, hey, I can write my own". I want to write more but I have too many ideas and not enough motivation to stick with one over the next. None of it was beta'd btw, like this is all legit first draft stuff, I shouldn't be trusted to write anything.


End file.
